


Morning Glory

by Bunnywest



Series: Hunter 'verse [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Peter Hale is not a morning person, petopher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-02 22:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13327746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Chris Argent gets up and runs ten miles every morning at 6 am.Peter thinks mornings should be banned until at least ten.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here, have a tiny Petopher chapter. I promise there's more coming.

Peter’s dragged from his sleep by the sudden absence of warmth at his back, and he’s not happy about it.

He keeps his eyes firmly closed and waits for Chris to come back to bed. Surely he’s not getting up – they’ve barely had three hours sleep.

Not nearly enough time between the sheets, in Peter’s opinion.

But as he listens, he can hear the sound of fabric rustling, and water running in the bathroom, and he finally reluctantly sits up with one eye open, his face creased with sleep and his head a riot of bed hair.

He’s greeted by the sight of Chris dragging on a t shirt.

He’s barely awake, but he’s awake enough to realize that this doesn’t fit in with his plans. This doesn’t fit in with his plans at all.

Peter’s plans don’t involve Chris Argent getting dressed, for a start.

“Why, Christopher? Why are you awake” he whines, as he sees Chris picking up a pair of running shoes.

“6 am. Time for my run” Chris replies, efficiently tying a double knot in his lace.

“Oh no, I don’t think so. It’s barely even morning. Come back to bed, sweetheart.”

Chris raises his eyebrows at the endearment, but keeps putting his other shoe on.

“I need to stay fit if I’m going to fight wendigos and darachs and god knows what else. They say whatever you do on New Year’s Day is what you’ll be doing for the year” Chris says firmly.

Peter twitches the blankets back so Chris can see his body.

“So surely then, you should spend the morning in bed with me, letting me take you apart?  And we can get up later, at a respectable hour – say, eleven? That’s what _I’d_ like to do in the New Year” he purrs.

Chris hesitates in his lacing, eyeing Peter up.

“I’m sure I can give you a good workout” Peter wheedles, pulling back the blankets a little further.

He blows Chris a kiss, grinning.

Chris swoops in and kisses him, running a hand down his chest and snaking his tongue into his mouth with a hint of desperation, and Peter thinks for a moment he’s won him over, but then Chris pulls away and shakes his head.

“If I don’t go now, I won’t go at all“ he groans reluctantly.

“Would that be such a tragedy?” Peter asks, his tone hopeful.

Chris goes back to tying his shoes, and Peter pouts.

“Of course, you could come with me” Chris offers. “I need a running partner, and you’d definitely push me. And afterwards, we’ll go back to bed, and you can do anything you want to me.”

Peter perks up slightly at the offer.

He tilts his head back and looks up at Chris, asking “Anything, you say?”

‘Train with me, and I’m all yours for the rest of the morning” Chris says with a twinkle in his eye.

“But you only have five minutes to decide, or the offer’s off the table“ he adds.

Peter groans and throws himself back on the bed.

“You’re a terrible person, Christopher. You know I’ll have to come with you now, if only to get my hands on that ass of yours.”

Chris chuckles, amused at Peter’s dramatics. “Not a morning person?”

“Mornings should be banned before ten.” Peter replies, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Oh, are you worried about missing your beauty sleep? Scared you’ll find a wrinkle?” Chris mocks him gently.

“No wonder you look like you do, if you get up so early,” Peter retorts a little meanly, because it’s 6 am and he’s not getting his own way.

Chris snorts, and says “Four minutes.”

Peter sits upright, blinks, says “Right. Right. Getting up. Running. Then sex.”

He blinks once more, rakes a hand through his disastrous hair, yawns, and manages to stand.

He sways for a moment before stumbling to the bathroom, and Chris can hear him muttering to himself about how being up this early is just _obscene._

‘Three minutes” he calls out, and hears the running water shut off.

“Coming, coming” Peter grumbles as he shuffles out of the bathroom, wearing his boxers and last night’s v neck.

He’s managed to tame his hair and splash some water on his face, and looks marginally more awake.

Chris throws him a pair of running shorts out of a drawer, and Peter eyes them critically before pulling them on. They’re not a perfect fit, but they’re not bad, and Peter thinks they’ll do for today.

“Tick tock” Chris reminds him, and Peter honest to god _snarls._

“I’m _getting ready_ , Christopher” he snaps.

Chris chuckles, and starts stretching.

Peter’s treated to the sight of Christopher Argent’s tight, toned ass as he reaches down and grabs his ankles, folding in half gracefully.

Then he straightens up, grabs his ankle, and pulls it upwards towards his butt, standing on one leg in front of Peter and swaying slightly as he waits for his thigh muscle to loosen.

He switches legs and repeats the exercise, and Peter would have to be blind not to notice how long those legs are.

He’s tying his own shoes when Chris slowly, deliberately, starts to do lunges, right there in front of him.

And damn, Peter’s wide awake now.

‘If you keep doing that, you won’t be running anywhere” Peter warns, eyes glued to Chris’ groin.

“You really are desperate” Chris observes, grinning wickedly.

He straightens up, and says “Ready?”

“And we definitely go back to bed after this?” Peter confirms, because he’s not setting foot outside that door without the promise of a reward.

Chris just says “Pull the door closed after you” and takes off at a jog.

 

* * *

 

 

At first, despite the fact that it’s still dark and cold, Peter has to admit, it’s tolerable.

Barely.

Argent sets a steady pace, and Peter has no problem keeping up. And if he runs behind, the view has a lot to offer.

You could bounce a quarter off that ass, he thinks.

Maybe he’ll try it, later.

And as the blood starts to flow and he wakes up a little more, it’s not entirely unpleasant, and the pace is hardly taxing.

Right until they reach the hill.

As they approach the base of a steep incline, Chris turns and raises an eyebrow as he slows a little.

“OK, warmup’s over” he says, and Peter sees the gleam in his eye as he speeds up and fucking _sprints_  up the hill, and he’s a third of the way up before Peter realizes what’s happening.

Well, that’s just not acceptable.

Peter growls low in his throat, and resigns himself to putting in actual _effort_.

He draws a deep breath, and races up the hill past Chris, leaving him for dust.

Chris laughs, startled, and puts on an extra burst of speed himself, almost catching up.

Almost.

Peter makes it to the top and stops with his hands on his hips and a triumphant look on his face.

Chris reaches the top and keeps going, past him and down the other side, picking up speed.

Peter catches up to him easily enough, and asks “How far do you run normally, Christopher?”

“Ten miles” Chris answers him, breathing heavily, his legs hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm.

Peter grimaces, but sets a faster pace, in order to get the damn run over with. He thinks to himself that the sex had better be amazing after this – he never even got coffee.

The ten miles takes a lot less time than normal, because Peter pushes them mercilessly, eager for it to be over. Chris keeps up, barely, but he’s sweating now, his shirt soaked, and Peter can heart his heart racing.

It might be petty, but Peter’s had to get out of bed when it’s basically the middle of the night, and he believes firmly in sharing his suffering, so he speeds up a little more.

Soon enough they round a corner and Chris’ house comes back into view, and Peter grins triumphantly. He waits at the front door, barely out of breath and enjoying the sight of a flushed and sweating Chris coming towards him.

He can think of better ways to make that face flush, and none of them involve running.

Chris is panting, lungs burning from the extra effort Peter forced him to put in, but he’s grinning as well, even as he bends over and draws in great heaving breaths.

“Tired?” Peter enquires sweetly.

Chris shakes his head.

“Nope. Feel great“ he gasps out.

Peter smiles a little smugly.

“Workout’s next” Chris tells him between pulling in lungfuls of air.

At first Peter thinks he means sex, but once he’s caught his breath, Chris walks through the house and leads him to a fully equipped gym, and Peter’s heart sinks.

This just seems excessive.

And then the music starts.

It’s seven am, he hasn’t had coffee, he’s just run ten miles in a frankly spectacular time, and now?

Chris Argent is playing Black Sabbath.

At volume.

Peter shoots him a filthy look.

Chris grins as he grabs a set of loaded barbells and starts to work his biceps, lifting in time to the pulsing beat of _Iron Man._

Peter watches as the muscles flex and the veins bulge, sweat trickling down Chris’ forehead and dripping onto the bench he’s seated on.

A drop runs down the side of his neck, and Peter can’t help but lean in and trace his finger over the spot.

Chris chuckles, and says seductively “See something you like?” and the sound of his gravelly tones makes Peter shiver, he can’t help it.

Then he stands, and pulls up the edge of his shirt to mop his brow, giving Peter a glimpse of his abs, glistening with perspiration and perfectly sculpted.

Peter snaps.

“Workout’s over” he declares as he stalks over, slings Chris across his shoulders in a fireman’s lift, and strides from the room, to the sound of Chris laughing at him.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris is still laughing, a full belly laugh, when Peter throws him on the bed.

He bounces slightly with the impact, and Peter’s quick to climb onto the bed with him and pull him in close as he kisses him passionately, kissing the smirk right off his attractive face.

“Anything I want, you said”  Peter breathes in his ear.

“What about the rest of my work out?” Chris teases.

“Christopher, I promise you, by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll have used muscles you haven’t used in years” Peter tells him, cocking an eyebrow.

He has Chris pinned to the bed, straddling his body, and he grinds his hips subtly.

“Can I shower first at least?” Chris asks.

Peter considers it.

A sweaty Chris Argent beneath him, exhuding a cloud of pheromones that are like nectar to Peter’s wolf senses, or a wet, soaped up naked Chris Argent, skin gleaming as Peter runs his hands over him, pinning him to the shower wall?

 

Life’s full of difficult decisions.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter extracts his payment for getting up early.  
> Chris doesn't seem to mind.

One of the reasons that Peter finds Chris so attractive is that the man’s as smart as a whip.

And he knows all about werewolves.

Which is why,while Peter’s debating the merits of washing Chris vs getting him filthy, Chris suddenly realizes “Wait, you _like_ me like this, all sweaty and sticky. It turns you on.”

Peter leans down and noses at Chris’ neck, before pulling back and asking “Problem?” with an arched brow.

He’s half expecting a cruel remark, maybe a dog joke -  it’s what he’s been met with before. But when he looks at Chris, the man’s expression is soft as he shakes his head, saying “No, I get it. It's a wolf thing.”

And it seems he really does, because Chris sits up, then reaches down and pulls his shirt up and off, tilts his head back, and says “Go ahead, baby.”

With the removal of his shirt, the smell of fresh sweat hangs in the air even more thickly, and Peter’s nostrils flare.

Chris chuckles deeply, and he lays back down with his arms spread wide.

Peter’s eyes light up, and he strips his own shirt off.

He takes hold of Chris’ wrists, drags his arms over his head and holds them there lightly, then runs his nose down the side of his neck.

“God, you smell delicious” he growls, and presses their bodies together, bare chest to bare chest.

He scents Chris further, taking long pulls of air, and when he finally pulls back, he’s grinning savagely.

He takes the time to climb off the bed and hastily strip off his shoes and shorts, and does the same to Chris so he’s laid there before him, spread out in all his naked glory, cock heavy and hard.

“I wonder if you taste as good as you smell?” Peter muses.

He smirks at Chris, lowers his head, and licks a single stripe up his cock.

Chris groans at the contact, so Peter does it again, but this time he doesn’t stop at a single lick, but slowly runs his tongue up and down the shaft and around the head, before taking as much as he can in his mouth, causing Chris to arch up.

He closes his eyes as he slides slowly up and down, immersing himself in the taste and the feel of the thick flesh in his mouth. Chris tastes as good as he smells, and Peter buries his nose deep in the thick hair at the base of his cock and inhales deeply.

He speeds up and increases the suction slightly, grinning when he hears Chris’ heartbeat speed up and his breathing hitch.

He tilts his head slightly to allow a little more to slide into his throat, and swallows around it.

Peter wasn’t lying when he said it’s been years since he slept with someone, but this particular skill hasn’t left him apparently, and gods, he’s missed the feeling of a nice thick cock in his throat.

He feels the hands tangling in his hair and hums in pleasure as Chris presses him down further and his hips start to move.

He deep throats Chris like a pro, not holding back, and it’s not long before Chris is cursing and pulling at his hair as Peter draws him closer and closer to the edge.

Peter brings a hand up and tugs gently at Chris’ balls, fondling them, and that along with an extra flick of his tongue over the head has Chris coming down his throat with a grunt.

This was possibly worth getting up and going running for, Peter decides.

He pulls off and licks delicately at the traces of come smeared on his lips.

Chris lets out a satisfied sigh as he lies there, loose-limbed and satisfied.

“Damn, baby” he purrs, and pulls Peter up so he can kiss him, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of himself.

Peter kisses back passionately, then breaks away so he can nuzzle into the crook of Chris’ neck and scent him a little more, since he really doesn’t seem to mind.

“You really are delicious in every way, Christopher” he murmurs as he lays light kisses up and down the side of his neck.

Chris squirms a little, huffing out “Ticklish” as he tries to move away from the scratch of Peter’s beard.

Peter doesn’t torment him, tempting as it is, because Chris is letting him indulge his wolf, and Peter hasn’t found many lovers who are willing to do so, but Argent seems to understand that it’s important.

 Peter appreciates that more than he thought he would.

He pulls away a little, and looks at Chris thoughtfully.

“You mentioned a shower?”

Chris props himself up on his elbows, still blissed out from his intense orgasm, and rumbles “Uh huh.”  

“I could soap you up” Peter offers.

Chris eyes Peter’s erection, runs his hand over it once or twice, and says drily “Soap me up? Is that what you kids are calling it now?”

Peter just laughs, and follows Chris when he climbs out of bed and heads to the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris has a massive shower with double shower heads, easily big enough for two grown men to stand under, and Peter takes a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the streams of hot water as they pound against his body and rinse away any lingering annoyance at being awake so early.

When he opens his eyes, he’s treated to the glorious sight of Chris with his head back, water streaming down his face and beard, running over his body in rivulets, making the muscles gleam.

He has his back to Peter, arms hanging limply at his sides, legs planted firmly about a foot apart, and Peter growls deep in his throat at the sight of his ass, round and firm and tempting.

He crowds up behind him, reaching his arm around to grab the shower gel and a washcloth.

He works up a lather and starts dragging the cloth down Chris’ muscled chest wall, leaving a trail of soap suds. Chris hums in pleasure, and rocks back against where he can feel Peter’s cock pressed up against him.

Peter soaps his arms, then lifts them and cleans his armpits. He runs soapy hands down his sides, before gently taking Chris’ soft cock in his hands and cleaning it thoroughly.

Chris spreads his legs a little wider to allow better access, even as he says  “Gonna need a little more time, I think you broke me.”

“Excellent” Peter purrs, and continues to wash him, moving to his back and starting with the back of his neck.

He discovers that running his fingers through the short hair there earns a full body shudder from Chris and a groan of “Oh, yeaaaah” so he spends some time playing there, before working his way down and massaging the broad shoulders in front of him.

Chris has his arms braced against the shower wall with his head hanging down now, and his back muscles ripple and bunch enticingly under Peter’s skillful touch.

By the time Peter makes it down to his ass, all he wants to do is fuck Chris against the wall.

“I could take you right here” he growls low in Chris’ ear, as he slides soapy fingers between his cheeks, brushing a fingertip over his hole.

Chris hums in agreement, lost in the sensation of Peter’s hands as they ghost over his body, before his brain catches up.

“Soap’s not lube, Peter” he warns.

Peter rolls his eyes.

“Well obviously, Christopher. Can’t you just let a man enjoy his fantasies?”

Chris turns to face him and drags him in close for a hug, resting his head on Peter’s shoulder as he encircles him with strong arms, and breathes in his ear “Lube’s in the cabinet”  as he nods toward the cupboards in the bathroom.

Peter’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Really? You’d let me fuck you against the tiles?”

Chris laughs, deep and low and unfairly sexy, and says “Baby, I’d let you fuck me anywhere. Maybe you didn’t break me completely, at that” and Peter can see and feel that indeed, Chris is starting to harden up again.

Upon hearing that, Peter pulls away and darts out of the shower, dripping water everywhere in his haste to get the bottle out of the cabinet. When he turns back around, it’s to the sight of Chris Argent braced against the wall with one hand while he strokes himself lazily with the other, grinning over his shoulder, eyes sparkling in anticipation.

“Get over here, wolf” he commands, and Peter’s quick to obey.

He drops to his knees behind Chris and parts his cheeks, before leaning in and breathing in deeply, filling his nostrils with the smell of _ChrisChrisChris_ , musky and heady and intoxicating.

He presses his tongue against the pucker in front of him, earning a deep groan.

Chris arches his back and presses back against him as Peter slides his tongue up and down his cleft and over his hole, softening up the muscle with spit and warm breaths and gentle pressure from his tongue, until he’s finally able to slide the tip in there, just barely.

Chris jerks at the sensation, and Peter huffs out a laugh as he holds him in place and works his way in a little further.

Chris makes a low, desperate sound at the further intrusion, and Peter pauses long enough to ask “Should I stop?”

Chris shakes his head vigorously, so Peter keeps going, until Chris growls out “Thought you were going to fuck me?”

He’s panting a little as he says it.

“Thought I could do whatever I wanted?” Peter counters, but he stands then, and after making sure his fingers are well coated with lube, he slips one inside, and Chris lets out a pleased sigh.

He opens easily under Peter’s touch, and it’s not long before he has three fingers inside him, twisting and teasing and stretching him.

Peter thinks briefly of teasing Chris, making him beg, but he’s too selfish, too needy, too hungry for more.

He’s been hard since he carried Chris out of the gym, and he can’t wait any longer.

“Brace for me, sweetheart” he instructs Chris as he lines up behind him, pulls his fingers out, and in one swift move drives in deep.

The delicious warmth and tightness is all encompassing, and Peter has to close his eyes and breathe for a moment so he doesn’t come on the spot.

Chris moans, and rocks back, saying “Don’t hold back, baby.”

Peter doesn’t.

He thrusts forwards, holding Chris firmly by the hips as he carves out a space for himself inside his body, forcing himself deep, grunting with the effort and the pleasure.

Chris is moaning loudly, head thrown back, and Peter leans forwards and bites down on the curve of his neck, growling low in his throat.

It’s almost a shame how quickly he feels his climax approaching, but Chris is clenching around him and making delicious noises, and the sound and scent of him pushes Peter into overdrive.

He reaches around and starts to work Chris’ cock, growling “Come on, sweetheart, give it up for me” as he strokes in time with in his thrusts. Chris bucks forward at the feeling of Peter’s hand, strong and sure on his cock, and his breath hot against his neck as he continues to whisper filth. 

“Hnnnngh” is all he can manage as he comes suddenly, eyes screwed tightly shut, face pulled into an expression that’s part bliss, part near death experience.

He clamps down around Peter like a vice, pulsing and clenching as he comes, and the sight of his come splattering against the tiles drags Peter over the edge. He slams in hard, and holds Chris firmly in place as he pumps stream after stream of hot come into his ass, tiny broken noises leaving his throat, a litany of _ah ah ahs_ echoing off the bathroom walls.

Chris is drawing deep breaths, and he slumps against the wall of the shower, exhausted.

Peter goes with him and they both lean there, spent.

It’s only the fact that the water’s starting to lose its heat that persuades them to move, in the end.

Chris forces himself upright and shuts the tap off, wincing slightly as he moves.

“Definitely feeling the burn” he tells Peter with a wry grin.

Peter huffs out a laugh as he reaches out and hands Chris a towel.

“I did promise you a workout, didn’t I?” he says, looking immensely satisfied.

As they wander out of the bathroom into the bedroom, he casts an eye at the clock, and sees that it’s not even 8 am.

“There’s something else I want to do, Christopher, and you did say..” he starts.

Chris emerges from beneath the towel where he’s been drying his hair, and god, he looks delectable. Peter could just eat him up, with his piercing blue eyes and tousled hair and that damned smile.

And maybe he will, later.

“Tell me, baby” Chris says, looking amused.

Peter drags Chris over to the bed and pushes him down onto it.

“I want to throw those damn legs of yours over my shoulders, and I want to make love to you, nice and slow” he purrs, and Chris’ breath hitches.

“But first” Peter continues “I want. To sleep.”

And he gets into bed, pulls Chris over so his head’s nestled against Peter’s heart, wraps his arms around him, and settles in to nap with a blissful sigh.

 

* * *

 

 

When he wakes two hours later, feeling much more refreshed, Chris is watching him, a smile playing around his lips.

“Were you watching me sleep, Christopher?” Peter inquires through a yawn.

“Mhm. You’re pretty when you sleep” Chris replies.

“Excuse me, I’m pretty all the time” Peter counters, but he’s smiling too.

He’s had sex and he’s slept, and those are both things that he loves to do.

And when he looks at the clock, he sees that it’s technically still morning.

Excellent.

“So, it’s still early.  Up for another round?” he asks hopefully.

Chris shakes his head fondly, saying “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“It’s been a long time. And that’s not a no” Peter points out.

“It’s definitely not a no” Chris agrees, as he leans in and claims his mouth.

He’s an excellent kisser, and Peter happily lets himself be ravaged, kissing back with fervor.

When Chris finally breaks away, he rumbles “If we keep doing this I’m going to struggle to keep up, aren’t I?”

Peter looks at him for a moment, silent, before he asks “Do you want to? Keep doing this, I mean?”

Chris’ expression is warm, and he has those attractive creases around his eyes as he smiles a little wider and says “Peter, I’d love to keep doing this. I’ve been waiting to do this.”

Peter lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and his face breaks into a delighted grin.

He pulls Chris a little closer, and says “So, your legs and my shoulders…I think they should meet.”

 


End file.
